


I'll Find You Soon Enough

by TheGuard



Series: Like We Never Left [1]
Category: Homestuck
Genre: Alpha kids living on Beta Earth, Fantrolls, Fluff, God Tier, Pesterlog, Post-Sburb/Sgrub, Rhythm Strifing, back on earth
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-02-08
Updated: 2016-05-07
Packaged: 2018-05-19 03:46:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 6,642
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5952526
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheGuard/pseuds/TheGuard
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There was a sudden explosion and a rush of white noise. The exit door swung off its hinges. The universe would wait no more for its heroes.</p><p>The Game was won. And that’s all they worried about.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prelude

They won. They won and that was all they needed to know. A final team made up of five sessions, consisting of 19 trolls, 12 humans, 3 sprites and a lone cherub. Standing on the endgame platform was the twelve-windowed Sgrub logo of the troll’s game, in the colours of all the major teams: purple for Team Adorabloodthirsty/Fruity Rumpus Party Town, orange for Team Second Spin, and green and red for the pre- and post-scratch kids respectively. From the collaborative efforts of all four Space players and their knights, a new Genesis Frog had been encoded and was set to grow in a healthy Skaia. Hundreds of eyes fixed eagerly in anticipation into the gentle blue swirls, as B Slick ran through each life stage: from tadpole, you young frog to a fully formed adult. One set of ocular globes belonging to the Knight of Blood, scanned the universe that was expanding before them, looking out for any reoccurring patterns, hoping he didn’t make the same mistake as last time. 

Then it happened. The Vast Croak. The sound was immense, knocking anyone who was standing, off their feet, and those hovering to the ground. It reverberated throughout the void and echoed out into the Furthest Ring, where it was met with thorough glubbing from the Horrorterrors. And as abruptly it began, the croak subsided. Many were still in awe over the events that had unfolded and shock from the impact it made. The fanfare was over and the silence filed the void once more. It didn’t hang around long before a coarse giggle started up. Karkat Vantas was laughing. He was genuinely laughing in glee, pale pink trails of dismay fluid spotted around his gander bulbs.

“It worked! It really fucking worked! He’s healthy! I didn’t fuck up this time! I didn’t give him cancer!” He choked. The others seemed to take that as a cue to shatter the awkward silence further, erupting into celebrative cheer, hugging and clinging to every one they held dear in sheer joy and relief. Moirails, matesprits, best-bros, anyone they had a positive connection with. All but one. The Heir of Breath remained quiet, reaching out to touch the glassy orb that held the Universe he helped create, reaching out as a comforting gesture, which was mostly for himself to help ground himself into the reality of the situation. John closed his eyes, tears already welling up, and rested his head against the orb of Skaia. The Genesis Frog almost looked down to him, slowly closing one eye, and then the other. 

“We’ll keep you safe.” He whispered, almost choking with emotion. “I promise.” If only his dad could see him now, he’d be so proud of him, he looked so fatherly.

The moment was cruelly interrupted by a slight ping of a bell and someone shouting, a voice he wasn’t that familiar with.

“Are you fucking kidding me? A full reset?!”  
“Hey, I’m bloody furious about it too. Look, the windy kid’s up there crooning to BSlick like a recently hatched wriggler. We all worked so hard for that the last two times, and now’s no exception.”

John made his way back to the crowd, where a Blood and Mind player from the other troll team were arguing with each other. The Blood Thief had slim horns that curved back and then jutted out to the sides, her hair platted at the sides and a larger one bundled into her hood. Her Mind companion had rich wavy hair and thicker horns that shot straight up like rabbit ears.  
“What’s going on here? Something about a reset, did we do something wrong?” John questioned the two female trolls. They both looked at him. Karkat had a look of dismay, before muttering a string of profanities in Alternian clicks and chirps to himself. The troll with the handlebar horns sighed, slung an arm over the human’s shoulders, and turned them both towards the exit.  
“Woo boy. Okay, how do I explain this. If you are fortunate to beat the Black King, create a healthy Genesis Frog and your whole team is still together, the game will grade you on your performance. This is based on a number of factors: how high you are on the echeladder, number of godtier players, percentage of personal lands completed, and pretty much how well you did as a team.” Everyone had settled into quiet murmurs between little groups, chatters of concern as some keep an ear out on the conversation between the two friend-leaders.  
“So, the world you get is based on how well you play?” John replied, after wrapping the words around his head in an attempt to understand. “Then what did we do wrong to get this? I completed all the quests on LOWAS! I gained godtier, freed the fireflies…”  
“And from what little I know of you as an individual, that pretty much ranks for 100% completion.” The troll cut in on his ramblings. “But in comparison, not everyone else did. Not everyone finished their land’s quests, reached god tier, or chose to talk to their denizen over fighting them, provided they even met them.” She sighed, brushing some of her coarse hair back. “Therefore, we get the most basic of what we could all call a “good ending” for The Game.” She flung her arms in the air. “As another Thief would say, “Them’s the br8ks”!”  
The troll with the rabbit-ear horns approached the two with two Time players, one who John recognised as Aradia. The other, a Prince of Time, whose triangular horns had two smaller points coming of the front. They began to have a rapid fire conversation in Alternian, which, judging by the inflection and body language, seemed to have serious implications. The Blood player sighed.  
“If that’s the only possibly meaning then we have no choice but to just jump through two at a time.” Aradia replied. “Tirasa and I will hold back to make sure everyone makes it through.”  
The troll referred to as Tirasa adjusted the position of his Time Slicer scythe on his shoulder. His face, a mixture of concern, doubt and discomfort.  
“Here’s hoping that Jake’s ready to work at full power then. We’re going to need a lot of Hope.” He muttered, looking back at the Alpha kids. They were occupied with the rekindling of their friendship between themselves and the bonds with the Beta kids. He took a moment to wonder if there was any chance that the Trolls could co-habit with Humans, or if this friendship disease could work on Alternia. It was more the anticipation of what would come next.  


And soon it came. There was a sudden explosion and a rush of white noise. The exit door swung off its hinges. The universe would wait no more for its heroes.  
Everyone started to get pulled off the platform, one by one. John’s Breath powers were no match for the gale forces he was being battered by. Instead, the Heir managed to grab the hand of the Maid, pulling her close as the Crocker-berts became a blur of blue and beige, hurtling into the blinding light. The Lalondes flew through straight after, white-knuckled gripping onto each other’s arms. There was nothing left but a broken cry of separation between lovers. Next up, a Witch was trying her hardest, clawing at the ground, before she followed suit, her Page hot on her trail and initiating a Sweet Catch!, clutching the dog-eared girl to his chest in an attempt to wrap himself around her.  
The Mage and the Bard jumped in straight after, their Thief latched on between them. The Sylph left on her own. All that was left now were the Striders, their swords dug deep into the foundation, ensuring that all human players made it through before they’d dare leave their posts. The Knight and Prince turned back to the Trolls, to Karkat and Terezi, before launching themselves after their friends. Then it just became a matter of order, which resulted in any order just go! Karkat watched as everyone started to leave in twos of their blood, growing panicked, frantic and bloody peeved at his own mutation as Captor was chauffeured off with the Lavpov twins, “how dare they come in threes!” before Calliope, who wanted to look good for the occasion and done up in her troll cosplay, snatched his hand in her gloved one and hurled each other to the new world.  
Colbolt, Teal, Jade. The two Time players waited until every troll had made it out with at least another of the same caste before leaping into the void themselves.

The Game was won. And that’s all they worried about.


	2. Elements of April

The April breeze was gentle, leaves quietly rustling on the trees of a small suburban neighbourhood of Maple Valley, Washington. A middle-aged father take a deep and thoughtful puff on his pipe. It was over four years ago today that his son went missing on his 13th birthday, the house suddenly vacant from his joyful demeanour, which left a hollow feeling inside the man. The boy’s room was left frozen, only entered for light cleaning. A mere memory as the months passed and no sign of his son’s return. A face in the paper making its rounds, for a long lost child. Eventually, clothes were removed from the wardrobe, posters taken down and neatly stored away, and the immense harlequin collection gathered and stored in the attic. James Huxtable Egbert began to bond with old contacts who had also lost their charges that day; a woman who had lost her daughter, a young man whose younger brother had left and an elder gentleman whose granddaughter had disappeared. One evening after returning home from his work, a shooting star gleamed across the clear night sky. The light was interestingly unique, a deep blue, much like his son’s eyes, with a twist of bright cyan. The trail was long, rather unlike a shooting star, as well as the angle of trajectory. It was a meteor and heading straight for the lake near the mountain.  
  
The April showers had been light and refreshing for the time of year, the rushing of a lake under a designer condo, a little upstream from Rainbow Falls, New York. A mother twirls a martini glass between her fingers, the contents long gone. Her daughter had disappeared suddenly, vanished into thin air. The liquor cabinet, the stars and a rather nice gaggle of “boys” had been her only forms of comfort, one of them she had taken a shine too. Roxanne Lalonde began to wonder, if only she could have paid more attention to Rose, then she would of discovered the reason for her sudden abscond from home. An evening with a clear sky should prove comforting. Aries was prevailing high in the rich navy of the heavens, dancing with Triangulum, as they left the belly of Cetus. Their stories were fanciful, almost as that of wizards. A glow on the eastern horizon drew her eye, a glow of hot pink and sombre purple, and it seemed to brighten and glitter in its descent.  
  
The April sun was baking the buildings, the air was stiflingly hot, filled with exhaust fumes and the occasional siren of the Houston traffic far below. A man edging 30 sat on a broken AC unit on the roof of an apartment block, his platinum blonde hair caught a little in the breeze, and the sun glinting off the edges of the man’s triangular shades and katana blade. A thought niggled at the back of Bro Strider’s mind, his lil’ bro hadn’t been home in too damn long, nearing four years. Initially, he thought Dave had gone on a fast-food run to Taco Bell or some shit. A few hours pass, and no sign. Maybe the lil’ man’s in his room? A quickstep in reveals nothing. Bedroom empty, usual shit scattered and piled in places. No Dave. A couple of weeks go by and still no sign. Puppet production carries on like normal, a few gigs every other evening, bring home a couple of choice babes. Did he just bail and start living on the streets? He’d be smart enough to take some supplies with him. Or at least, come home. Six months pass and Lil’ Cal’s missing too. What are you supposed to do when a kid goes missing? Put up posters asking the lil’ shit to get back, then strife him when he does? The hairs on his neck and arms bristle with a sudden chill, despite the heat. He turns to go back in, unaware of a streak of bold red, crackling orange, streaking over the horizon.  
  
The April flowers were in full bloom, pops of bright colours in a sea of greenery, waves gently lapping the shore in the distance. A large, white dog of undeterminable breed, naps peacefully in the canopy’s shade, a number of exotic plants sway with the light breeze. An elderly man sat cleaning out a wide barrelled Elephant gun, an array of tools spread out on a little table. Hass Harley watched as the sun dipped below the horizon, its light scattering across the ocean. He calls to his loyal dog, gathering his equipment and turning in for the evening. Beq trots up and observes the rainbow of colours that filled up the sky. This, of course, meant nothing to a simple hound such as him, and quickly followed his master into their island home. A bright neon green and pine burnt its way across the dimming sky, sparks of off-white popped off the core, hurtling towards the beach.

They would never know, the Heroes where returning home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I chose to incorporate the Beta kids classical elements in with their hometown/city/location. Also, this Beq is not a First Guardian.


	3. Run Troll, Run

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Tomorrow is another day  
> And you won’t have to hide away  
> You’ll be a man, boy!  
> But for now it’s time to run, it’s time to run!"
> 
> -Run Boy, Run by Woodkid

Spered Bainsh was a simple troll of simple tastes. He enjoyed hunting, lusus-back riding, the occasional sessions of FLARPing, and displaying his general brash nature as a Cerlianblood male. He was the type to hunt both trolls, lusii and beasts indiscriminately, for “sport”, without rhyme or reason. The Orion troll had few friends, no quadrants and barely kept in contact with anyone. The only troll he ever talked to was a purpleblood female, who gave of a vibe of “way older than she ought to be”, and both unsettled each other far too much to be in the same room for any period of time. The Purpleblood would hide her face behind an ornate mask, rather than paint, along with a garish amount of feathers and sequins decorating the accessory and her leotard.  


After a successful hunt of a wild-tusked gruntbeast, Spered started tugging away at some of his barbed arrows from out of the beast’s hide. It groaned slightly, and was responded with a cold strike to the temple with a club. It dropped back dead. His sabre-toothed tigerlusus began chuffing in the direction behind him. He took no notice as he reloaded the arrows back into his quiver, when Mndala started shouting.  


“Oh mah stars, Spe babes, there are lights descending from the heavens. Isn’t it beautiful, babes?” She exclaimed. “It’s a miracle sent by the Messiahs themselves.” For a moment, Spered wondered if Mndala should skip some days from Circus, she was beginning to sound more fanatic as the masses went by.  
They were in a big enough clearing to see a good chunk of the sky. And sure enough, there were lights, coming down in matching pairs of the hemospectrum. Streaks of Rust and Teal and Violet lit up the sky, putting on a dynamic and flashy show. But two stood out like a sore thumb in the glow that swallowed the night, a pair that was Iron Red and True Lime.  
“Mndala, mount.” Spered commanded. The Phoenix troll turned around to see him climbing onto the back of his lusus. Her eyes lit up and she scrambled behind him, winding her arms around his thorax with gleeful abandon.

Karkat Vantas wasn’t usually the type to take ill behaviour of any troll, his team or otherwise. He also wasn’t the type to take well to being forcefully ejected from Sgrub’s victory platform and hurtling towards the ground at high speeds. And here he was, humiliatingly face down in someone’s lawnring, hurting all over. As if the universe was still not done screwing him over. He took a while to scream profanities into the dirt, and, now satisfied, rolled over onto his back, eyes to the kaleidoscope effect occurring in the sky. His hustktop beeped within his sylladex, announcing a new message, but he chose to ignore it, whoever it was could wait. There was the shuffling of clothes and a moan. He could relate. Karkat shuffled a bit in the slight groove he’d worn in the earth, it was strangely comfortable. But there was no time meant wasting lying around on the ground. He’s a big deal, a busy guy. Heh. WAS!  
Eventually, the Cancer troll hoisted himself up right to see…a shape in dark lime cloth. White hair. Corkscrew horns…  


“Um, Callie?” he asked the lump. It winced again in response. He shuffled into a crouch and crept over to her. Calliope was lying in a foetal position, eyes shut tight, and clutching her head between her fake horns. He blinked but could have sworn he saw a few sparks of lime psions arcing between the curves and her hands. The cherub(?) began to relax and opened her eyes. The sclera had gone a dull yellow, and the lime of her irises had dulled down incredibly. She slowly began to sit up, one hand propping herself up and the heel of the other to rub at her eyes.  
“Karkat?” she asks. There was a faint sound of heavy steps, the rhythm matched that of a quadruped beast, and the noise attracted the trolls’ attention. Karkat helped Calliope up to her feet, keeping his stance, deploying his Crabsickle and on the alert. Calliope seemed to of catch on and hastily reloaded the chamber of her white magnum, pushing it back into the barrel. They stood back to back, tense and alert. The silence sent chills up the troll’s spine, his pump biscuit hammering away in his ears.  


“Karkat! Callie! Run!” a hoarse, female voice shouted. Two cobalt-fletched arrows were suddenly knocked out of the air by a pair of intricately designed, olive spell cards, and burst into a shower of splinters and feathers.  
A flaming bolas came spinning through the air and were caught and cut to ribbons by a set of bright blue claws.  
Nepeta bounded over, grinning wildly. “AC greets Kar-kitty.”  
“Nepeta? What the flying fuck?” Karkat growled. Another Oliveblood female come hurtling from behind her. Her horns split into three branches, like a featherbeast’s talons.  
“We need to move, memo’s orders.” The female informed, grabbing Karkat by the sleeve, Calliope and Nepeta hurrying behind them. Another sling of arrows blocked by a few more playing cards.  
“What’s going on, what memo?” Nepeta hands him her drawing tablet.

steamEmbers [SE] opened a memo.  
[SE] Att£ntion h£ro$ of $kaia!  
[SE] and th£ nubnut$ $urrounding  
[SE] Aft£r b£ing $hov£d out and landing fac£ fir$t into th£ oa$i$,  
[SE] I com£ hom£ to find a wriggl£r in my hiv£  
[SE] A wriggl£r with th£ wrong horn$, $ign and giving m£ a fac£ full of $cr£aming, loud £nough to rai$£ th£ d£ad  
[SE] Naturally I a$k: “why you in my hiv£?”  
[SE] H£r r£$pon$£; “Thi$ i$ MY hiv£, dummy! It ha$ b££n for th£ la$t two $w££p$!"  
[SE] and $tuck h£r tongu£ out  
northenSpray [NS] responded to memo.  
[NS] this is why yu need a hive that goes plaices  
[SE] Jonoah, I don’t bloody car£ about your subhiv£   
[SE] anyway, I would al$o lik£ to point out, that it look$ like all god ti£r$ hav£ b££n r£v£rt£d back to mortal $tatu$  
[SE] $o th£r£'$ that  
looseNebular [LN] responded to memo.  
negatedLatency [NL] responded to memo.  
[LN] hoi  
[LN] am stll here!  
[NL] yes. we are both here.  
[SE] You guy$ facing th£ $am£ probl£m?  
[NL] sort of, yes  
[NL] Snow-kita is now caring another young troll.  
[LN] she’s rly cuteeeee  
[LN] she’s gt lil’ brkbst ear hrns 2!  
[NL] her sign appeared to be Canes Venatici.  
[NL] she didn’t seem too bothered that we were in what is now her territory.  
[LN] she lets us stay, cuz we mk sno-kita hppy  
[LN] :D  
[SE] Anyon£ £l$£?  
arsenicCatnip [AC] responded to memo.  
[AC] :33 *ac prowls the sea of unusual faces*  
[AC] :33 *she briskly leaves her cave beclaws another purrbeast has taken it as their own*  
[AC] :33 why is there another troll in my cave?  
apocalypseArisen [AA] responded to memo.  
[AA] s0 it turns 0ut that this versi0n of Alternia we’ve arrived 0n is the same 0ne we have left  
[AA] h0wever it d0es l00k like the timeline here has c0ntinued with0ut us  
[AA] and with the presence 0f nepeta, all the deceased have been br0ught back t0 life  
[AA] as if sgrub never happened  
[SE] I$ tira$a with you?  
laudingLookout [LL] responded to memo.  
[LL] y3s  
[LL] by th3 looks of things, our hiv3s hΔv3 b33n rΔz3d too sinc3, Δs you'v3 sΔid, w3’v3 b33n gon3 so long  
[AA] n0t that matters f0r me since mine was g0ne bef0re we left  
[NL] our’s hasn’t since myself, Omegas and Sollux all live in the same communal hivestem.  
[NL] so tenants are simply replaced.   
[AC] :33 *ac points out that she lived in a cave, which wasn’t made by carpurrnter drones*  
secludedNightshade [SN] responded to memo.  
[SN] \|/ My hive has had the misfortune to have been razed. Where it once stood, is now a differing structure, with a young Boötes troll residing inside.   
[SN] \|/ However, from my location, I have found Karkat and Calliope.   
[SN] \|/ They appear on edge but fine.  
[AC] :33 i’m coming!   
arsenicCatnip [AC] ceased responding to memo.   
[SN] \|/ What are your suggestions, Dracaw?  
[SE] My $ugg£$tion I$ that £v£ryon£ mov£ th£ir butt$ ov£r h£r£  
[SE] Jonoah, go pick up th£ princ£$$ and th£ viol£t/purpl£blood$   
[SE] I don't giv£ a nibbl£ v£rmin'$ a$$ about th£ grudge£ you hav£ with £ridin   
northenSpray [NS] ceased responding to memo.  
[SE] I'll go talk to thi$ wiggl£r, hop£fuly my lu$u$ I$ $till h£r£   
[SE] Gonna l£av£ comm$ op£n $o oth£r$ can b£ update£d   


Dracor sighed as she moved away from the chat, the occasional pings as more trolls came into the memo and chattered. She hoped that everyone could make it to the oasis before sunrise. But before she could deal with a large crowd of twenty-something, 8-and-a-bit sweep old trolls, there was the matter of this wriggler, squatting in her hive, who was currently pouting at her. She was about to open her mouth before the young troll interrupted.  
"So, how long are you planning to stay here before I get my lusus to kick you out to the musclebeasts?" she barked, trying to be intimidating. The fact she was only 2 and a half sweeps and clutching a scalemate, who's tail looked half chewed, really didn't help. So, this one though she could outsnark Dracor Pyraah, did she?

The little jadeblood had rather wavy hair, that curled up into little coils at the back. she had a slight overbite, and her horns were asymmetrical: one shot up like a shoutpole, the other had a sickle-like curve. Her long-sleeve shirt bared an interrabang in bright jade, with a plain, pleated skirt and standard issue plimsolls.

"Kid, I've lived here for way over 6 sweeps, probably more, I know way more about this place than you do." she bit back, lowering her horns a little and baring her fangs. The awkward thing about her, apart from the off-centred jaw, was her more prominent fangs. While Kanaya 's upper incisors where similar to that of an Earth Rainbow Drinker, the opposite was true for Dracor, with her lower set baring more.

"Fine! How many blocks does it have." This was elementary. Back when her ancestor, the Hemosmith lived here, there were hundreds of blocks, most of them recreational and respite for the number of lowerblooded trolls who worked alongside her as blacksmiths and forging weaponry. There would be enough respite blocks for the others to claim at least two apiece and still have more left over. Hell there even was a basement with a distillery, and a passage that lead to a mineshaft and the mother grub's chamber.

"Two nutritionblocks, three recitationblocks, an open communalblock, at LEAST fifteen respiteblocks, two abutionblocks, one on this floor and the one above it, both with separate loadgapers, a lowblock and mineshaft." She listed each of them on her fingers as she counted. The wriggler stiffened, frowning. That's a lot of rooms for one troll, almost too many.  
"Um okay," she shuffled in place, but puffed her chest up. "Then, if you've lived here, then tell me what those big stony things are in the communal block!" she demanded. It was cute really. There was a knock on the front hatch before the dragon troll could answer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Introducing Spered Bainsh (Orion) and Mndala (Phoenix). They will have no future appearances or impact on the story at all.  
> Also, colour coding is murder. I'll try to keep pesterlogs to a minimum.


	4. Hello Seattle

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John and Jane enter to find that they've returned to their home state on Earth and lose their godtier powers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello Seattle, I am a cold seahorse  
> Feeling warm in your sand  
> I sing about the tide and the ocean surf  
> Rolling in the evening breeze  
> \- Owl City "Hello Seattle"

Flying is always an enjoyable aspect of godhood. It came with the robes and the powers, and accessible by all aspects. The low rush of the wind as it whipped around you, a raw force often wielded by Breath heroes, and as calming as it could be exhilarating.

Two bodies, limbs intertwined, fell gracefully from the clear midnight heavens, each body leaving a glowing trail of blue, one bright cyan, the other a low navy. The breeze brushed against Jane Crocker’s cheek and tousled her hair, slowly waking her. She had her arms wound tight around John’s chest after they had jumped through, who was still unconscious, his long windsock hood billowing around them. The soft fluorescent lights of the suburbs stretched out to the horizon, the haze marking out individual streets, cul-de-sacs and neighbourhoods. She looked around where they were descending. The street lights came to a stop along the edge of the lake, the moon underneath them.

Then, the Maid realized that they weren’t flying but falling. Remaining calm, she took a deep breath and slowly exhaled, pushing forward and twisting her feet in an attempt to steer towards the body of water. It worked, the hazy glow moved away and was slowly replaced with the pitch of the grasslands. But it became an increasing effort, and the usual pleasantries were replaced back with the rushing again, the two of them descending head first. Jane looked back at John, still out like a light. The lake coming closer and closer. A number of concepts ran though her head, should she jostle him? Slap his cheeks? He must have Jake’s heavy sleeping if he’s not feeling this.

“Hey, Nick Cage sucks! Text it!” she blurted, this woke John, who naturally took a great offence.  
“Jane, how dare you!” He yelled back, his voice hoarse over the rushing wind of their descent.  
“No time for that, buster! We’re gonna hit the lake at this speed. Can you still fly?”  
John wiggled around in her grip for a moment and looked over his shoulder. Inky black was coming closer.  
“Um, no?” They both grabbed each other tighter and screamed.  
An abrupt jolt ran through the Heir and with a quick Breath, their decent curved and suddenly soared over the surface of the water, sending waves crashing around them. They were still screaming as the effect died out, the remaining threads of power, and of their godhood, unravelled, leaving the two Skaian heroes skimming across the surface. If the adrenalin of falling hadn’t woken them up, then the sudden plunge into the icy black would defiantly have them on the alert.  
Limbs flailed wildly, thrashing in the deep, creating foam on the surface. Mouths gasping and bodies wracked with ice. The two, raven headed, Seattleites broke the surface, shivering violently as they emerged on the bank, soaked to the bone and beyond. No longer in their god robes, the Crocker-berts found that they were wearing the clothes they were in before they died on their sacrificial slab and quest bed respectively. 

“Where…where are we?” Jane asked, sliding her sopping wet hair out from her eyes and rubbing her arms to warm up. John removed his pine green over shirt and wrung it out, kindly giving it to his kid-ecto-mum. She thanked him and the two walked westward towards the suburbs. There was a rhythmic squelching of wet socks in even wetter shoes as their soles hit the pavement, a brisk stride employed to hurry without running and to get joints and muscles and bodies warmed up. But a spark lit a fire in their hearts.

Fir Drive.  
They were home.

\-----

James’s PDA lit up with a ping, indicating a message had been received though his Serious Business messaging service. He put down his evening paper to investigate. It was a handle he didn’t recognise, certainly not from his list of associates. It was also in a rather ridiculous shade of fuchsia. He read and responded.

imperialAdmiral [IA] began signalling pipefan413 [PF] at 21:12  
IA: ahoy  
IA: I sea you are a fan of pipes  
IA: a man with such an interest is a man I can get behind  
IA: then again, I can get behind a lot of mundane things these days  
PF: Pardon?  
IA: sorry, ‘m just an old man rambling again  
IA: I heard your son disappeared 4 years ago this eve  
PF: Unfortunately, this has been and is the case.  
PF: That he did, but before we take this any further, I must ask to whom am I speaking?  
IA: aah :)   
IA: ‘m just an old sailor on these tides of fate, much like yourself  
PF: Bizarrely cryptic, but nomoreso than those I have come to know, do continue.  
IA: I may be moray less new to this, but trust me  
IA: listen carefully to the sounds outside your hive

James looked up from his PDA and to the living room window. There wasn’t much to hear from a typical, quiet suburban neighbourhood at night. There was a faint howl of wind, the rustle of branches, the slight squeak of the swings in the front garden as the breeze gently pushed them.

IA: do you hear it?  
PF: Hear what, exactly?  
IA: footsteps  
IA: two sets

He listened closer, the clock on the wall continued to tick as the seconds crawled by, feeling louder in the void of the night. They were faint but there. Rarely was anyone in the neighbourhood out at this hour. The sound of gravel crunching underfoot on the drive way, accompanied by two voices, one male, one female. He responded back to the mystery messenger.

PF: In actuality, I believe I do.  
IA: better answer the hatch then  
IA: I bet it’ll be a swell surprise  
imperialAdmiral [IA] ceased signalling pipefan413 [PF] at 21:23

\-----

They had come this far, so why was there this uneasy knot in John's stomach? The number was right, 21605 Fir Drive, the swings and the pogo slimer ride in the front yard, and his dad's car was on the driveway. All signs pointed that this was the right house, so, why the nerves?  
John's hand wavered for a moment, pried to knock on the door. Jane stood behind him, pulling the overshirt across her chest for warmth, she stood a slight far way behind him. John turned to look at her for a moment, his hand still in prime knocking position. She looked back at him.

"Oh, this just feels so weird!" The former Heir exclaimed, hand dropping to his side and turning back down the drive. "My dad died years ago, I kinda got over that, and then all this godhood and powers, and massive battles." He sighed. "I'm not sure if I can go back to "normal" life anymore after that. Go back to just being John Egbert."  
"Well then, it's just a new challenge for us then, isn't it?" Jane beamed, still shivering. She heartily patted him on the back, John giving a slight "oof", and began bouncing between her heels to keep warm. "Come on, I'm freezing standing out here, and I feel all horrible and grody from that dip."

John took a hold of the knocker and raps three times. The two tensed and held their breaths, John stepped back down from the step. Via the light in the hall and small window in the front door, there was a shadow moving towards to door. The latch clicked and the door was pulled inward.

"Son?" Came a familiar voice. John immediately burst into tears and tacked his father into a hug.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I headcannon that John's a fan of Owl City.  
> Also, I can't Dadbert


	5. Lost in the Echo

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In these promises broken  
> Deep below  
> Each word gets lost in the echo  
> So one last lie I can see through  
> This time I finally let you go!!!
> 
> -Lost in the Echo, Linkin Park

The ocean was calm, large metal fins gracefully paddled the deep waters. A mechanical, fuchsia tail pushed the bulk in time with the chug of an engine. Jonoah Mirano sat quietly at the helm of his subhive, with the heiress resting quietly in the hold. She laid back on a ratty old resting platform, littered with mismatched cushions and an aged, patched-up snuggle plain, keeping herself and her chauffer updated with Dracor’s memo. Every now and then, he would let out what felt like a low rumble, then a whine. He’d wait for a moments, appearing to listen out for a similar noise, then tap at various pieces of equipment, flicking at switches and dials, before returning to his wheel.

“I am just so glubbing excited about this! It sounded like a lot went down after I died.” she bubbled. “I’ve just been glubbing to Nepeta about it all, about those other humans they met and the new session they went to.” She moved to a more comfortable position on the mat, wedging her huskpad on her lap and eagerly tapping on the onscreen keyboard.  
“Uh-huh” was Jonoah’s reply, an automatic response as he kept his focus to the journey ahead. “Any response from my moirail yet, ma’am?” Despite the two seadwellers having the highest blood possibly on the hemospectrum, the whale troll still regarded his passenger as higher than him, only out of an act of politeness.  
“languidSonata, right?” the princess asked, Jonoah nodded. Feferi looked down at her huskpad, switching between the constant rainbow in the memo, and her recently updated ChumpRoll.  
“Whaale, it doesn’t look like she’s online right now.” She tapped away again, trying to keep up with the public chat. “Maybe she can’t get to her husktop or somefin?”  
“Her palmhusk doubles up as her sylladex. She uses a Cameraphone fetch modus, I think.”

It had been weird. Jonoah had initially blamed both Eridan and Karkat for Feferi’s death, the latter for his incompetence, and the former for being a bulger sucker. But after spending two sweeps stuck in a game, you start to learn things. All the deaths he had heard about from the other team were either necessary to the timeline, or were punishment for the abuse/stinginess of their powers. However, a Soft Reset seemed to undo this and it confused him. Ascending to Godtier as the Knight of Breath had helped clear the cotton wool stuffiness from the front of his thinkpan.

‘BANG! BANG! BANG!’

Both Fuchsiabloods turned to the sound of something catching on the hatch. Someone was knocking, a light squeak where someone was trying to open the outside door of the chamber. Jonoah pulled on the breaks, jamming a few times before the subhive slowly glided to a stop. Feferi hopped up from the platform to join him, the sound of rushing water could be heard behind the door from the airlock draining. There was a brief pause where a hearty smack could be heard, followed by the sound of horns hitting metal, before the Cetus troll finally opened the hatch.

Inside were two violetblooded seadwellers. Cygnee was scowling outright, hair wet and twisted in its hair tie, while Eridan was rubbing one horn and a large, hand-shaped mark, had begun purpling quickly on the other cheek. The Swan troll immediately stepped out, wearing what appeared to be kitten heels, rather than the court shoes she had left the game in.

\-----

The ocean was horrifically cold during the third winter. Oracan Arions rarely ever swam during any winter, or even the Dark seasons, if ever. And yet, Skaia thought it would be a good idea to throw the landdwelling highblood straight into the deep end. He floundered around in the dull grey waves, trying to catch a breath and getting his bearings. The coast wasn’t too far, the dock a visible landmark against the washed out shore. He flailed a bit, paddling in the water before another wave washed over his head, threatening to pull him under. Oracan managed to get into a breast stroke before moving into butterfly, a little rusty from not swimming for a long time. When your lusus is a bottlenose dolphin, being able to swim is usually a good idea if he gets into any trouble, even with the risk of feisty seadwellers.

The cold was starting to get to him, despite his blood temperature and it began to hamper his speed, but he’d managed to cover a good distance. Fatigue was starting to set in a little when he spotted something blindingly orange and pointed in the churn of foam. A set of tall, slightly twisted horns, buried in an enormous, sopping mop of black hair. There was a body floating unconscious on the surface, polka dotted comfies and purple sand shoes. 

"Damnit, not again!" he managed to yell, another wave crashed into the Delphinus Troll’s face, filling his mouth with angry salt water. Oracan dove straight for the body, having to twist into a backstroke so he could retrieve his emergency life ring he kept in his sylladex. With hypothermia teasing him, and the fact it was a DOS modus, hampered his rescue effort, he finally got a hold of the bright purple and white striped ring and began kicking. He managed to pull Gamzee’s scarecrow-like body into the flotation device, dear Gog, it felt like he weighed a ton. As he got closer to the shore, his feet managed to gain enough traction on the sea floor to pull his passenger to the beach, finally crashing on the sand, and shivering.

After sparing a few seconds for a self-pity party, Oracan looked over to his rescued troll. Gamzee did appear to still be breathing a little, it was hard to see, the slight rise and fall of his chest, the press of his ribs easily visible under his drenched shirt, what with his skeletal frame, baggy clothes and the angle he was propped up at, and was out as cold as the waters had left them both. He sat the Capricorn troll up, so he couldn't choke on any salt water he had inadvertently swallowed while he'd drifted. 

"Please don' kill me, 'm jus helpin' you bro." Oracan muttered, curling one arm around Gamzee's chest, holding onto his arms, and rhythmically struck him in the back. On the third strike, Gamzee began to violently splutter and wheeze, interspaced with little shock roars from the salt. Oracan tightened his grip, in case he lashed out at him. The strangling noises eventually ceased and he flopped back into the life ring, taking deep breaths that slowly became regular, and Oracan sighed. Another life saved, or not, who knew.

The sky was full of clouds, some looked mean and threatening. The dolphin troll set his sea-goat survivor up in his lap, swapping the life ring for a huskbook, and finding the spectrum of a chat of double the amount of trolls he was expecting.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This has been taking a while, what with other things that require more attention, like coursework and finals, blah blah. That and I do have videos that need making.


End file.
